Hearing the sounds of those in the transporter room for even just the milliseconds of lag time between being able to hear those around them, and actually seeing them, Tom Paris could hear his own father's jovial laugh, something rare yet unmistakable to the lieutenant. As the remaining part of his form re-materialized in the room, he took a deep breath and prepared himself for whatever would appear before him.

"Tom! My boy!" Admiral Paris's voice was loud and clear and he stepped toward Tom on the platform. "I never thought this day would come," the Admiral finished with moist eyes. After a genuinely hug, Owen moved toward B'elanna. "And B'elanna! I have always dreamed of meeting you."

B'elanna, who was not accustomed to such attention, gave an awkward smile and thanked the Admiral for his kind greeting. It was at that point, she noticed her own father lingering by the workstation in the room. She stepped off the platform and walked toward him. "D-dad," she said cautiously.

"B'elanna," John Torres almost gasped in a little. "You've turned out to be so beautiful, even more so than I could tell from transmissions."

The half-Klingon blushed. "I guess I didn't turn out so bad." Not knowing how to say it, she simply added, "I'm so sorry." She gave her father a heartfelt hug. "I am so sorry."

The older Torres consoled his daughter, "It's not your fault, B'elanna. It never was. I was the one who ran away. I didn't want to try. I gave up when it became difficult. I can see now how foolish I was. You would have been worth making the effort." He smiled warmly at her. "Now where's this granddaughter I've been waiting so much to see?"

B'elanna reached down and softly woke up the sleeping Miral. "Shhh shhh," she cooed to attempt to calm down the waking infant.

John broke in, "Last time I asked you hadn't decided. What did you name her?"

"We decided to name her Miral," B'elanna said sheepishly. "It seemed honorable."

"A fitting choice," the John concluded while taking the infant form B'elanna's arms. "She has your eyes, B'elanna; wide open and deep."

"Funny," B'elanna mused. "That's usually not the first thing people notice she got from me," she added with a small smile.

"Something I've learned," John began "is that those things shouldn't matter." He looked his daughter square in the eyes. "I lost you once because of my ignorance. I'm not going to do it again."

At that point, a flustered Dr. Bashir entered the room. "I knew since I was getting here late that both of you would break the rules I established," he said glaring at the two grandfathers in the room. "This is especially alarming from YOU, Admiral."

Owen Paris smiled. "Well, Doctor, I decided health risks were worth it. John and I discussed it and from our understanding, this means we must also go through decon."

Dr. Bashir shook his head. "I know when to admit when I've been beaten." It was obvious on the Chief Medical Officer's face that he expected such a response from the Admiral. "Security, please allow for site to site transport of these five." Within seconds, the group was gone and the doctor was left to shake his head."

As the group found themselves in the 'decon', a pair of connected living quarters modified with ventilation systems, Tom Paris grinned at his father, "If I didn't know any better, I would say that whole exchange was totally staged."

The Admiral returned the exact same grin, "He owed me a favor. I must be honest, it was John's idea. I can see where B'elanna gets her problem solving skills. I just knew what strings to pull to make it happen."

"Well it's nice to see you two have bonded," B'elanna noted. She looked at her husband, "We better watch out, Tom. They can double team us now."

"Well as long as they want to double team by tag-teaming changing diapers, I can handle that," Tom said.

"We'll see about that," Owen answered. "I think it's about time I get to see that grandchild. Why don't you kids go unpack and us grandpas will watch the baby. I happen to know the bedroom on the left has one large bed, while the other room has two twin size that John and I can use."

"I see you've planned more than you let on," B'elanna said while picking up a duffel bag. "Come on, Tom, let's go get this done."

"Yes, Ma'am," Tom answered playfully. Trailing his wife into the master bedroom, he pondered aloud. "This isn't the way I thought this would happen, but it seems like both our dads are willing to try to start over."

"We'll see how long that lasts," B'elanna answered. "I just can't help but thinking this is all way to easy. For the past seven years, nothing has been sure and nothing as been safe, so how am I immediately supposed to expect that seven years out of the quadrant, and everything is fixed? Things don't work that way."

Tom sat his wife down on the bed. "I know things have never turned out easy for you. And I must admit, I'm a little wary of this sudden change of heart as well, but let's not dismiss it totally. Maybe we have all changed more than we thought. It's worth giving it a fair chance. They both seem like they want to be involved, and I'm willing to give it a shot."

"You're probably right," B'elanna conceded. "It's just so hard to accept that we're home, much less that things I've thought would never happen my whole life are all of a sudden happening."

"Do you think I'm not wondering the same thing? I know it's almost beyond belief, but let's not squander something we might have." Tom answered while unzipping a bag and pulling out packed uniforms and placing them in a drawer.

B'elanna always hated to admit when she was being unreasonable, but she knew Tom wasn't expecting her to out and out admit it. Changing the topic was more her style. "I wonder if we're expected to be in uniform, and if we are, should we replicate the newer style?"

Tom smiled at his wife, "Always the engineer! You just can't help but wonder about everything, can you?"

At that moment, Miral's whimpering in the other room turned into loud insistent shrieks. Almost immediately, a knock followed and Admiral Paris entered the bedroom. "I think it's time this little one go back to her parents," he said while handing the Miral to his son. "I think she may need to be changed," he concluded.

"Thanks, dad," Tom replied. Pulling the diaper bag to the floor, he changed the diaper as efficiently as he had done the first time. Proud of his work, he put the diaper in the trash to be recycled and found a fresh jumper to put Miral in. Working the infant into the outfit, he looked up at his father. "So what exactly are we here to do?"

"Well it's apparent that the crew of Voyager is diverse. We need some representatives of the crew to decide with Starfleet what to do with the crew. Not all members will receive the same treatment, but Starfleet wishes to do what they deem fair," Admiral Paris's eyes fell, "I know it's not what Starfleet should be doing, but it's what they have decided."

B'elanna's jaw almost dropped, "You mean it's going to be up to us to determine who gets commissioned and who gets promoted?"

The admiral's eyes became stone cold, "Yours and Ensign Kim's as soon as he gets here."

"I don't think I like that," B'elanna noted. "It's not right to put some of the crew over others. We all did our jobs, it just happens that some people had more glamorous duties."

"That's the same position your captain takes," Owen responded. "Maybe with some luck, you can convince Starfleet to think the same way." As he had an ability to do, there was a visual change as the admiral went from official business to dealing with family. "Let's put all that behind us for the moment. Your dad has replicated us a fine meal. Let's just enjoy that and worry about this business in the morning."